


Stars Hollow, Connecticut

by kapachiramasama



Series: Gilmore Girls AU [1]
Category: Gilmore Girls, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gilmore Girls Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, everyone's in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kapachiramasama/pseuds/kapachiramasama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where the runner of the Blackwatch Inn has no filter.</p><p>Gilmore Girl's AU, where the Overwatch Team are the resident's of Stars Hollow. If you've never seen the show, it doesn't matter, it's just a domestic au then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars Hollow, Connecticut

        “Jesus H. Christ, it’s colder than hell out here!” McCree exclaimed, shoving his gloved hands further down his coat pockets.

 

        “I think most things are colder than hell,” Hana said, walking in pace with him. He shook his head.

 

        “Not my hell. Being lit on fire is a vacation in Maui compared to this,” Hana didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, wrapped in her pink jacket and beanie. Her plaid uniform skirt exposed her to the elements, but she seemed fine. McCree, a native Texan, was not used to the frigid temperatures of Stars Hollow, Connecticut. Even though the walk from their home to the diner was less than fifteen minutes, McCree was still dying.

 

        “Stop being a baby,” Hana scolded, grinning devilishly. “You know, I can always go home and get that poncho if you’re-”

 

        “Shut it, kid. Last time I ever try to relate to you,” McCree had thought showing Hana his belongings from when he was a teenager would help him connect to her, but, instead, she had mocked him endlessly for his sense of fashion. 

 

        “But you looked so cute in the cowboy hat!” She exclaimed, grabbing his arm. “I’m going to turn seventeen soon! If you don’t hand down your hat, I might have to go buy one, and that’s just not authentic. Or maybe Zarya and Mei might have one in the dance studio from when they did ‘Annie Get Your Gun.’”

 

        “Maybe I can just ship you down to the South West for a few years and you could wear one in,” They had finally reached the town square, the diner mocking them in the distance. The only thing between McCree and a steaming cup of coffee was the town Gazebo. Of course, that meant walking by an arguing Jack and Reyes. Zenyatta was in between them, attempting to play peacemaker, but they were really laying into each other. Bastion was hanging lights around the Gazebo, probably for Jack. He waved kindly at Hana and McCree as they walked past, completely unaffected by the argument occurring two feet to his left. They waved back.

 

        “Sweet Jesus, for two old men they seem to have a lot of energy to fight,” McCree commented as Jack pointed a finger in Reyes’ face, who looked ready to bite it off.

 

        “I bet they take One a Day For Men. Hey,” Hana nudged McCree. “If they start throwing punches, who do you think would win?”

 

        “Reyes, definitely. Look at those thighs, you could choke a man with those,” 

 

        “Like that Fourth of July when Zarya squeezed the watermelons between her legs until they exploded?”

 

        “Exactly, but those watermelons would be wearing Jack’s dumb ass red sunglasses,” McCree cupped his hands in front of his mouth. “Hey, Morrison!”

 

        Jack and Reyes stopped their bickering, turning their glares from each other. Gabriel Reyes was one of the more affluient citizens of the town; along with a sizable inheritance from his family, he owned the Blackwatch in, which was featured on travel magizines every other month. Meanwhile, Jack Morrison moved to Stars Hollow from a farm in Illinois, and had run the small grocery store since. It just dripped with irony that Reyes dressed like a cat burglar and Jack was only seen without his polo shirts when it was covered in a knit sweater.

 

        “What!?” Reyes shouted.

 

        “If I jump Morrison, do I get a bonus?” Jack glared and Reyes rolled his eyes.

 

        “How about you get your ass to work on time for once in your fucking life and we’ll talk?” Jack scoffed.

 

        “Do you have to curse in front of Hana?” Jack asked. Reyes rolled his eyes.

 

        “Jack, what does ‘fucking’ mean?” Hana asked in faux innocence. Jack shot her a look and Reyes grinned.

 

        “You are truly your father’s daughter,” He grumbled. McCree laughed and threw an arm around his daughters shoulders.

 

        “Damn right! 100% McCree blood in this one!” He laughed loudly, shaking her shoulders. He had nearly a foot  and a 100 pounds on her but she barely budged.

 

        “She’s adopted!” Jack said, exasperated.

 

        “I’m adopted!?” Hana gasped. McCree covered her ears, looking shocked.

 

        “We were waiting to tell her!”

 

        “Get to work, McCree,” Reyes said, tired, but still amused.

 

        “You got it, amigo!” He saluted to Reyes and turned, walking towards the diner.

 

        “You’re Mexican, learn Spanish already!” 

 

        They had finally reached the diner, creatively named ‘Hanzo’s Diner.’ It had once been a hardware store, owned by the Mr. Shimada, proud father of Hanzo and Genji. When he passed, Hanzo took over, and converted it to a restaurant, but still sold hardware supplies for some reason. There were rumors that Mr. Shimada had been in the Japanese mafia, but no one could justify why the Japanese mafia would operate in Small Town, Connecticut. 

 

        The bell above the wooden door jingled as McCree pushed it open, moaning in relief as the heat hit him. Only about half the tables were occupied, which was pretty slow for the morning. 

 

        “Refrain from making such noises when their are children are present,” Hanzo said from behind the counter. He was dressed in his usual button down shirt and jeans, which McCree found pleasantly form fitting. His greying hair was tied up in a ponytail, and he pulled a notepad and pencil from the white apron tied around his waist. McCree gave him a toothy grin.

 

        “Not for long, my girl’s turning seventeen next week!” He bragged. Hana smiled widely, setting her bag down on the linoleum counter.

 

        “Yeah, and then Dad’s gonna pass down his old cowboy hat to me!” She said cheekily. Hanzo raised his eyebrows and nodded.

 

        “How generous. Will you also be receiving the poncho?” He said. McCree groaned.

 

        “I was a fuckin’ kid! It was the culture! Let it die!” He groaned, slumping down onto the bar stool.

 

        “Hana is also a child, so I would appreciate you refraining from any inappropriate comments,” Hanzo said.

 

        “Or what, you’ll spank me?” McCree grinned. Hanzo gave him a thousand yard stare, and Hana made a disgusted face.

 

        “Oh, gross. I’m gonna sit over there by the garden hoses. Join me with a plate of pancakes when you’re ready to stop disappointing Jesus,” She grabbed her bag and sat at a low table across the room with mismatched chairs, pulling out her DS. McCree turned back to Hanzo, who was pouring him a cup of coffee.

 

        “Babe, you know me so well!” McCree exclaimed, grabbing the coffee and sipping it, the hot liquid warming him and bitter taste waking him up. 

 

        “McCree, you’ve come here everyday for ten years, and, for ten years, you’ve drank coffee with every meal. I’m not a psychic,” Hanzo deadpanned. It was true, of course; Hanzo, without a doubt, made the best coffee in all of Stars Hollow. Maybe even all of Connecticut.

 

        “You know, keep talking like that, and Genji just might have another brother to hate,” As McCree spoke, the disheveled teenager himself emerged from the curtain that covered the staircase leading to the loft that Genji and Hanzo shared. He didn’t spare a second glance to his brother, but beelined over to Hana, settling down with a friendly smile. Hanzo stared at the pair as they spoke animatedly, scowl still in place. No one knew why the tension between the Shimada brothers existed, but it was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

 

        “So pancakes for the both of you?” He said, breaking out his writing pad. McCree smiled again.

 

        “Could ya make a smiley face on one of them? With the bacon and eggs?” 

 

        “No,” Hanzo turned around, and walked to the kitchen entrance. “Lena, two orders of pancakes!” He called.

 

        “And make a smiley face with the bacon and eggs!” McCree called, louder than Hanzo. Hanzo frowned at him.

 

        “I dock her pay every time she listens to you,” Hanzo said, walking back over to McCree.

 

        “I tip her extra every time she listens to me,”   
  


        “I’m glad to hear Lena is financially stable,” Hanzo walked around the counter, refilling the other customers drinks. McCree stood and made his way over to where Hana and Genji were laughing loudly. Genji got along with most people, and was easy to love. The kid had mint green hair, scars littered around his face and arms, and was too lanky for his own good, for Pete sakes. It had been theorized all the gene’s that made people capable of love went to him instead of Hanzo, but science had yet to provide definitive results. Before he could sit down, however, he got a call on his cell phone.

 

        Hanzo coughed loudly, giving him a stern look and pointing to the sign that read ‘No CellPhones’ that hung on the wall.

 

_         Sorry, can’t read, on the phone, _ McCree shrugged and pointed to his eyes and the sign before answering his phone, ignoring Hanzo’s death stares.

 

        “McCree speakin’,” He greeted.

 

        “We have a problem,” Through the static, he clearly heard the annoyed tone of Amélie, his concierge at the Blackwatch Inn, aka the place he spent 90% of his time running.

 

        “Howdy to you as well,” He greeted, ignoring her grim tone.

 

        “We have a hole,” She said, ignoring his teases. 

 

        “A hole?”

 

        “A hole,” She confirmed.

 

        “A hole where?”

 

       "At the Inn," She said.

 

       " _Where_ at the Inn?" He asked, suddenly tired.

 

        “In room four,”

 

        “Why?”

 

        “Well,” She started, “One of the guests began fighting with his wife. I believe it was over the best route home. He stormed off the leave, knocked over a lamp, and it broke the dry wall,”

 

        “So now we have a hole,”

 

        “A hole,”

 

        “And one less lamp. Sweet Jesus,” He pinched the bridge of his nose, to alleviate the oncoming headache.

 

        “Bring your boyfriend up to the Inn to fix it immediately. We have guests checking in tomorrow,” Like most people in town, she found it odd how forward he was with Hanzo, who most sensible people avoided.

 

        “Well, when you ask so nicely, why don’t I just bring Lena, too?” McCree teased, knowing Amélie had a small crush on Hanzo’s chef.

 

        “I’m hanging up now,” She said.

 

        “I can get her on the phone right now, if you’d like,”

 

        “Go to hell,” With a click, she was gone. McCree put away his phone and sat down.

 

        “What was that about?” Hana asked.

 

        “We’ve got a hole at the Inn,” 

 

        “A hole?” Genji asked, cocking his head to the side.

 

        “A hole,” McCree nodded solemnly. Genji looked confused, and was about to ask a question when he brother walked to the table. Genji’s friendliness vanished and Hanzo looked stiff.

 

        “Genji, you should be heading off to school,” He said, with more awkwardness than usual. Genji rolled his eyes, and pointed out the large window that made up most of the diner’s west wall.

 

        “Stars Hollow High is literally across the square,” He sassed. 

 

        “I’d prefer to see you actually go to the school. Seeing as you seem to get lost and make yourself late frequently, I will make sure you actually make it today,” Genji rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack off the back of his chair.

 

        “Fine, I’m off,” Genji gave a half hearted wave to McCree and Hana, who waved back. He ignored his brother and practically ran from the diner, Hanzo in pursuit.

 

        “Don’t miss any classes, and pay attention in class,” He lectured.

 

        “I’ll try not to be a delinquent,” Genji said as he slammed the diner door, making the bell go crazy. All the other customers pretended to not notice, but McCree and Hana stared as Hanzo huffed and turned away from the door. He turned to Hana.

 

        “I will pay you to return to this high school,” He pleaded. Hana shrugged and took a sip of McCree’s coffee.

 

        “Sorry, Hanzo. I’m too busy living it up with rich white kids with trust funds the size of Fort Knox,” She said empathetically. A second later, Lena came rushing out of the kitchen, two plates in hand and huge smile ready. She placed them down on the table.

 

        “Alright, here ya go!” She said brightly, English accent especially chipper this morning. Hanzo frowned.

 

        “Lena, it’s my job to serve the customers. Doctor Ziegler said you should not run around like this-” Hanzo scolded, before Lena shoved him lightly.

 

        “Psh, I’m fine! It’s gonna take a little more then that to break this!” She tapped her chest lightly. Lena Oxford was famous for having a very promising track career, before heart complications ruined her career and fitted her with a pacemaker. She came to Stars Hollow to begin a new life, away from England and the reminder of what could have been. She still smiled brighter than anyone else in town, especially her boss and admirer. Hanzo rolled his eyes and McCree frowned down at his plate, noticeably missing anything relating to a happy face.

 

        “Uh, darlin’, my smiley face pancakes seem to be missing something kinda important,” Hanzo shook his head, but once Lina was behind him on her trek back to the kitchen, she pointed to his plate.

 

_         Look under!  _ She mouthed excitingly. McCree lifted the top pancake to reveal the bacon and eggs in formation on the second hotcake. He gave her a thumbs up and grin, which she returned before ducking back into the kitchen.

 

        Hana and McCree dug into their meal, but didn’t get more than a few bites in before the bell above the door ran again, and Hana was tackled from behind by a pair of familiar arms.

 

        “Hana!” Lúcio shouted, smiling loudly as he squeezed his best friend, who looked like she was choking on her food. She recovered quickly and stood up, just to be hugged by Lúcio again. 

 

        “Lúcio! Hi! What’s up?” Lúcio finally let her go and reached into his backpack. Like most things he wore, it was neon, which popped brightly against his skin. He was so excited, he nearly slipped on his roller blades. He pulled out a flyer and shoved it into her hands.

 

        “I got a gig! I’m DJing for this party being thrown by some of the seniors at school!” Lúcio was a budding DJ, ready to work any job for anyone. Hana read the flyer and jumped up once, eyes bright.

 

        “This is amazing! This is like a real job! And your grandpa is okay with it?” She asked, subduing a little. Lúcio waved his hand dismissively.

 

        “Of course not, you know how strict he is. I’ll come up with something. I could always say I’m staying over at a friends house…” He gave McCree puppydog eyes.

 

        “‘M not lying to Reinhardt for ya,” As his only guardian, Reinhardt was extremely protective over his only grandson. Lúcio was not allowed to be out after 4:00 without permission, much less DJ for a party full of alcohol and drugs. Lúcio’s shoulders slumped.

 

        “It was worth a shot. I’ll tell him I’m at a Youth group or something. But Ah! This is so exciting!” He checked his watch and jumped. “Yikes! I’m going to be late! Here, take a flyer, and see if you can get Genji to come! I’m off!” And as soon as he came, he left, rollerblading faster than a human being should. Hana handed McCree the flyer.

 

        “Do you mind if I go to this?” She asked. McCree scoffed.

 

        “Absolutely not. You’re not allowed to go to any party that I’m not invited too. I’ll look like a square,” Hana pouted, and spied Hanzo making his way to their table.

 

        “Fine, I’ll ask my other daddy,”.

 

        “Please never call me that,” Hanzo grimaced.

 

        “Sorry, father,” Hanzo ignored her, and nodded to the flyer in McCree’s hands.

 

        “What’s this?” Hana snatched the flyer and handed it to Hanzo, leaning across the table.

 

        “A party that Lúcio is DJing at. He wanted to know if Genji could come, unless he’s grounded again or something,” She explained. Hanzo studied the flyer intensely, before looking back up at Hana.

 

        “Will there be any drugs or alcohol at this party?” He asked.

 

        “If they get there early enough. If not, I can hook you up with my dealer,” McCree interjecting, going too long without a witty comment. Hanzo rolled his eyes and handed the flyer back to Hana.

 

        “As long as you go and keep an eye on him,” Hanzo answered. 

 

        “Well, my first dad said I couldn’t go, so I was going to ask my second dad, but he asked me not to call him that-”

 

        “Stop,” Hanzo interrupted, walking away. Hana grinned at him as he walked away.

 

        “We’re too harsh on him,” She commented.

 

        “Yup,” McCree mused. He nodded to Hana’s watch. “You’re gonna miss your bus if you don’t hurry,” Hana checked her watch and started. She scarfed down the rest of her breakfast and jumped up. She grabbed her bag and kissed the top of McCree’s head.

 

        “Bye, Dad! I’ll see you after school!” She called, rushing out the door. McCree waved at her through the window, before return to his meal.

 

        Another fifteen minutes go by, and the dinner’s almost completely empty. Most folk are off to work or school, bar McCree, who had the luxury of being his own boss. He’s almost surprised when Hanzo drops down into the seat next to him, mug of tea in hand. McCree raised an eyebrow.

 

        “Finally givin’ yourself a break?” He asked. Hanzo nodded and sipped his tea, staring McCree dead in the eye. Despite all the teasing, the sheer intensity that Hanzo emitted made Jesse’s breath catch in his throat. He straightened in his chair and leaned on the table. “Listen, I have a favor to ask,” 

 

        Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “A problem at the Inn?” He asked, since this is where most of his favors lead. McCree nodded.

 

        “We have a hole,”

 

        “A hole?”

 

        “A hole,” Jesse nodded. 

 

        “What kind of hole?” Hanzo asked.

 

        “Some guy knocked over a lamp at the Inn and now there a hole in the dry wall,” Hanzo nodded and leaned back in his seat.

 

        “I’ll come by in the afternoon and take a look. The lamp needs to be repaired, as well?”

 

        “Nah, the Junker should be able to take care of that,” Moments like this, where neither were really teasing each other and there was not much else going on, where they were just _coexisting_ were McCree’s favourite. Hanzo nodded.

 

        “It should not be difficult then,” McCree grinned madly at him, and took out his wallet, throwing down some cash as he stood up.

 

        “Thanks, partner. Keep the change on this,” He started making his way to the door, before turning around, slowing. “Actually, give the change to Lena. She earned it,”  Hanzo stood up out of his seat, eyebrows furrowed.

 

        “Lena!” He shouted, stalking over to the kitchen. McCree laughed and walked out of the diner, back into the frigid cold and to work.

 

        The Blackwatch Inn was, of course, was calm and serene. The Inn was orderly, guests content, garden blooming, and decorum just the right amount of homey without looking too country. All the employees hated it. When the Inn first opened, the owner, Gabriel Reyes, and the three heads of staff all argued for what their theme would be. McCree wanted a Southwest theme, akin to what he grew up too. Amélie, who moved to the States from France a few months into the Inn’s redecorating, wanted classic and modern and classic feel that would be seen in Paris. Satya, the Inn’s head of maintenance, architect, and designer wanted the place to look less like an Inn and more like a hotel, with designs staying more minimalist and geometric. No one had won, and they all decided to make the Inn a boring ‘cottage in the woods’ type, with exceptions. One of which was the giant cows skull mantle behind the front desk, which McCree hung his overcoat on. Amélie was sorting through mail.

 

        “Mornin’,” McCree greeted. Amélie didn’t even look up.

 

        “Two guests have stolen the bathrobes from their room, Satya and the Junkrat have been arguing over the outdoor lighting all morning, and the hole is still there,” She rattled off. When McCree first met her, he was slightly intimidated by the amount of black she wore and how high all her heels tended to be. That was, until she helped him turn Reyes’ car into an aquarium after he gave them shitty hours during the holidays. He learned that she wasn’t just an evil bitch, she was, at worst, Chaotic Neutral.

 

        He scratched his beard. “Charge their credit card for the robes, I’ll talk to Satya, and Hanzo will be around at noon to fix the hole,” Amélie nodded once. If it were anyone else, they would have teased McCree over Hanzo, but Amélie kept  quiet. She was never in much of teasing mood during work hours. 

 

        “They are in the back. Stop them before someone calls the police,” She said. 

 

        McCree walked through the end, nodding every now and then to the guests he passed. The back of the Inn was connected to a bit of hilly meadows that were surrounded by forests. The meadows were breathtaking, and guests loved to sit out on the outdoor furniture for their meals, admiring the carefully planted garden flowers and duck pond. That is, they would be if their electrician wasn’t screaming at the top of a tree.

 

        Jamison Fawkes had been the Inn’s go-to maintenance man for years. Despite constantly being covered in oil, constantly arriving late, and scaring any guests he interacted with for too long, he was a very dependable electrician. As well, his best friend/roommate was the best cook this side of the Mississippi, and they were kind of a package deal.

 

        Satya Vaswani was his polar opposite; while he favored destruction and excitement, she thrived off of order and reasoning. Serious as a heart attack, she brought much needed stability to the Inn. But McCree wouldn’t exactly call this scene ‘stable.’

 

        “The lights are uneven! This side of the patio will seem brighter than the western half!” She called up to Jamison, who had his hands full with a tangled string of lights, sitting in a tree branch rather than the ladder at his feet. 

 

        “Well, I can’t do much about it! We can’t get power to the lights beyond this tree!” He called back, Australian accent thicker every time McCree hears it. Satya huffed.

 

        “Then get an extension cord to run over here!” 

 

        “Ha!” Jamison laughed. “To do that, we’d break a load of fire safety codes! Normally I’d be all for a bit of arson, but not when I’m workin’!” Jamison threw down the lights and dropped from the tree, landing on the balls of his feet. It was a good ten feet drop, something McCree wouldn’t dream of at his age with his knees. Jamison jumped back up and brushed his wild hair out of his face with his hand. He got into Satya’s space, looking down at her, a slight grin on his face. Her expression didn’t change.

 

        “No one will notice if the lights are a bit off-”

 

        “ _I_ will notice,” Satya cut off. She didn’t budge an inch, despite Jamison’s proximity. The looked ready to pounce, so McCree stepped in.

 

        “Woah there, kids. How about instead of drawin’ your pistols, we just set up all the lights we can on this half, and take down some lights from the western half ‘til they match?” Satya and Jamison glanced at his and looked back at one another, Jamison shrugged.

 

        “Works for me. Gotta get back to fixing the sprinklers anyways,” He sounded nonchalant.

 

        “Me as well,” Satya answered. McCree smiled and clapped his hands.

 

        “Ain’t this a happy ending? Now, get back to work,” Jamison waved a hand dismissively at McCree and bent down and gave Satya a gentle kiss. She returned it, but was careful not to dirty her clean white button down on his dirty overalls.

 

        “I’ll be covered in mud soon, so you’ll be missing that,” He joked as they pulled away. Satya began walking back to the Inn.

 

        “Just be clean by tonight. You won’t dirty my kitchen floors again,” Despite the comments, the both had ridiculously dopey grins on their face. McCree wanted to gag they were so cute.

 

        Instead, he walked back into the Inn and returned to his post behind the front desk. He did all the fun and exciting things that came with running an Inn. He paid bills, swept the foyer, and greeted guest. When he got hungry, he went to the kitchen, where Mako, or Roadhog as he prefered to be called, made him a bowl or chicken soup. It was slow; no one really checked in during the week in the afternoon. Feeling himself grow bored, he opted for following around Amélie as she made her rounds, checking the rooms.

 

        “Your people are filthy,” She commented, exiting the bathroom of the room the robe stealers used. Her face crinkled in disgust, and she wrote down notes on her clipboard. McCree was sitting on the bed that had yet to be made, with his feet propped up on pillows. He reclined as she inspected the closet.

 

        “Latinos?” 

 

        “Americans,” She spit, as if it were a bad word.

 

        “Is it possible that you’re getting more French?” He asked.

 

        “Is it possible that you fire me and give me severance pay,”

 

        “Not this week, Amy, but maybe next time,” She wrinkled her nose a him.

 

        “You’re aware that the bed has not been made yet,” She commented. He shrugged.

 

        “Yeah?”

 

        “And these are the people that tried flushing used condoms down the toilet,” McCree rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a thud. He banged his head on the night stand on the way down, but anything was better than lying in the sin bed. Amélie laughed at his maneuver, and he was about to comment back, when he noticed a familiar figure standing in the doorway, tool box in one hand, supplies in the other.

 

        “I don’t know what I expect of you at this point,” Hanzo sighed wearily. McCree jumped up and brushed off his pants, head throbbing and vision blurry. Hanzo turned and nodded to Amélie.

 

        “Good afternoon,” He greeted, and she returned it, just as stiff. McCree steered Hanzo out of the room and to the one across the hall, where the infamous hole was placed, in broad daylight. Hanzo set down his tool box and looked it over.

 

        “It is indeed a hole,” He said finally.

 

        “A hell of a hole,” McCree agreed. It was roughly the size of a fist, but McCree refrained from sticking his hand in to make sure. Getting your hand stuck in a wall was only funny the first few times, after that it was just pathetic. 

 

        Hanzo started taking measurements. He turned the hole from round to square, cut out another piece of drywall from so scrap, and put it in place. He was nailing the backing on the inside of the wall when he turned and saw McCree sitting on the bed, staring at him working.

 

        “You can trust that I won’t steal anything,” Hanzo said, only half facing him. McCree smiled.

 

        “I trust you. I just have nothing else to do right now. And, as head of the Inn, it’s my job to make sure this hole get’s patched up,”

 

        “I’m going to charge more if you sit there the entire time,”

 

        “Why don’t I just deposit it directly to the police department. We could set up a tab on Genji’s future bail,” Hanzo glared at McCree for a second, but returned to his work. It was quiet for a minute, before he spoke again.

 

        “How do you have such a … good relationship with Hana,” He asked seriously. McCree sat up, not expecting to have a real ‘talk’ as Hanzo mixed joint powder. He thought it over for a minute, about the differences between how him and Hana spoke and the difference between Shimada brothers.

 

        “I guess it’s ‘cause I trust her. I know she’s a smart and responsible gal, and wouldn’t get into any trouble,” He said honestly. Hanzo sighed heavily.

 

        “But that’s the problem with Genji and I. How can I trust that the second I turn my back, he’s not off becoming a delinquent,” McCree heard the frustration in Hanzo’s voice, and felt a wave of sympathy for him. Hanzo was not ready to be a parent, and was completely lost.

 

        “You just gotta. Hana an I talk about  _ everything. _ Even the stuff that most guardians don’t wanna hear. Do you think I  _ wanna  _ know that she spends too many nights awake playing video games instead of sleeping or studyin’? No, I don’t, but I don’t get mad or punish her or anything. She’s a kid, and owning up to small mistakes like this and knowing she can trust me is how she knows that I’m just looking out for her when I disapprove of somethin’. Communication is key in any relationship, family or otherwise,” Hanzo was completely quiet for McCree’s entire speech, choosing instead to focus on the repairs. McCree let him stew for a while, before speaking again.

 

        “Genji’s not gonna do anything dangerous, to himself or anyone. He’s just trying to rebel a bit. I was a bit of a punk ass when I was a kid. If Genji does anything that reminds me of the 80’s, like buy a guitar or buy weed for too much, I’ll let you know,” Hanzo cracked a small smile.

 

        “Does that mean you play the guitar?”

 

        “Oh yeah. It’s sitting in my attic, collecting dust with all my other potential,” Hanzo’s smile widened just a bit, so McCree counted that as a win. He wished Hanzo would smile more often, but felt some sort of pride whenever he gave one to just him. “You coming to the town meeting tonight?” He asked.

 

        “Yes, I have too. That is usually where I have the everyone complain about my attitude or Genji’s antics, rather than have them approach me during the day,” Town meetings in Stars Hollow were amazing; everyone came to complain and yell and occasionally vote on town issues. Hana and McCree usually brought snacks for when things got heated.

 

        “I wish you came more often. Last week, Zarya damn near threw a chair at Zenyatta for suggesting she take yoga instead of crossfit for her anger issues,” As McCree spoke, Hanzo stripped off his flannel, to reveal just a white tank top underneath. McCree tried to focus on his own story, but the way his dragon tattoos snaked up his toned and tanned arm gave him thoughts his abuela would have sent him to Sunday school for. He had the feeling he’d be warm even if it weren’t for the Inn’s heating system. “And, uh, Reyes and Jack were fighting in the square today, which means they will be at each other’s throats tonight. And, Winston wants to, um, plant some flowers, I don’t know what their called, uh, the blue ones, in front of the book store, but needs Jack’s approval, but you know how anal he is about those things,” Focusing seemed damn near impossible at this point, but Hanzo had finished the sanding the plaster on the wall, showing an even finish.

 

        “That should be painted, but, otherwise, it is done,” McCree gave a low whistle.

 

        “Damn fine work. Just as good as any professional, but saved me a pretty penny,” He clamped a hand down on Hanzo’s shoulder, which Hanzo shrugged off.

 

        “Don’t bother with payment. The advice you gave me was more than enough,” McCree gave Hanzo a kind smile, which was returned, albeit less enthusiastically. Hanzo packed up his tools, and McCree moved a painting over the mismatched paint. Hanzo noticed, and raised an eyebrow.

 

        “What was the point of fixing the hole if you were just going to cover it with a painting,” He asked. McCree shrugged.

 

        “It’s unprofessional to have holes in the wall. Someone might get hurt,”

 

        “The Australian Junker was standing in a tree, barefoot, hanging lights when I got here,” Hanzo said. Jess waved a hand.

 

        “Yeah, but that’s different. He works here,” Hanzo shook his head, and put back on his flannel. McCree walked with him out the door. Hanzo put his tools and scrap supplies in the bed of his truck. He closed the door, but McCree leaned in the window.

 

        “Not even a kiss goodbye?” He asked, voice sickeningly sweet. Hanzo looked him dead in the eye, unamused.

 

        “Do not make me hit you with my car, it will cost a small fortune for Torbjorn to get the dent out,” McCree pouted and backed away from the truck.

 

        “Sensible, I like that in a man. See you at 8, sweets,” Hanzo drove off, and McCree waved the entire time he left the driveway.

 

\---

        “I’m not changing the sign, Jack!”

 

        “I’ll pay for it! It’s unsightly, and scares off tourist,”

 

        “You know what else scares off tourists? A one armed towns spokesman,” 

 

        It was barely fifteen minutes into the town meeting, and Reyes and Jack were already screaming at each other. The vein in Jack’s forehead was popping out, and Reyes stood up on stage to yell at him at his podium. Town meetings were held in Zarya and Mei’s crossfit/youth dance studio, earning them both a place on city council. Chairs were placed on the dance floor for the rest of the city too sit, and a podium was placed on the low stage for Jack to conduct the meeting. His gavel was currently clutched in his death grip.

 

        “I’m glad we snagged seats in the back,” Hana whispered to McCree, while reaching into the bag of fries they got from Hanzo’s before they came. “If Jack brains Mr. Reyes with the gavel, the fries won’t get splattered,” McCree nodded, taking a sip from his soda.

 

        “That sign has been there for decades, since the last owner. It’s decrepit and peeling. We don’t want to people to think Stars Hollow is Camp Crystal Lake,” Jack shouted back. The room winced; Last time Jack had compared the Inn to a Friday the 13th movie, Reyes stood outside his house everyday for a week in a white mask and black get-up, just staring. It was in the man’s youth, when they both had a lot more energy and a lot more pettiness.

 

        McCree turned his attention away from the fight when Hanzo dropped into the seat next him, disheveled. McCree grinned at him and held out the bag of food to Hanzo, which he quickly declined.

 

        “Was anything important discussed?” He whispered. 

 

        “Oh yeah,” Hana replied. “Reyes and Jack are arguing about the old sign advertising the Inn on Apricot Street. Jack wants to change it, Reyes want Jack to go to hell,” Hanzo nodded. 

 

        “I thought Reyes was planning on buying a new sign,” He asked McCree. McCree nodded.

 

        “He was, but Jack asked him too. So he might asked to be buried with the damn thing,” The rivalry between Jack and Reyes had gone on for years, every since Jack beat out Reyes for the Town Spokesman position. Ever since, they have been more than happy to waste everyone’s time by bickering at town meetings. Most of the town’s business leaders and interested parties were present; even Reinhardt and Lúcio sat to the side. 

 

        “The town doesn’t like the sign, Gabriel. It’s worn down,” Jack reasoned. Angela cleared her throat and stood up.

 

        “I like the sign. It looks very, uh,” She turned to her wife, who was sitting next to her. “What did we call it, Fareeha? When we passed it the other day?”

 

        “When we went to the farmers’ market or when we went to Hartford?” Fareeha asked. Angela shook her head.

 

        “No, when you came home from that security conference in St. Louis,” Fareeha cocked her head to the side. McCree wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than a little afraid of his neighbor; Fareeha Amari was taller, stronger, wiser, and had more face tattoos than he did, and no matter how many times she watered his lawn for him as a favor, he would always show her more respect then he would show even his own father.

 

        “Classic?” Fareeha asked, but Mercy shook her head. Her blonde hair was in it’s usual ponytail, and it swung back and forth.

 

        “No, that’s not it,” She said.

 

        “Refined?” Offered Zenyatta. 

 

        “Matured?” Interjected Mei.

 

        “No, not that,” Angela said.

 

        “Fossilized!” McCree called out, and earned a jab in the ribs from Hanzo’s elbow. Mercy didn’t notice the joke, because she shook her head before jumping up.

 

        “Vintage!” She exclaimed, and turned towards Fareeha. “Yes, vintage! Because we went to that old diner you like afterwards, the vintage one, after you go the promotion!” 

 

        “Hey, Fareeha, you got a promotion? Congrats!” Lúcio patted her on the shoulder once.

 

        “Mazeltov!” McCree shouted, earning him another elbow to the rib.

 

        “Yes, congratulation, Fareeha,” Jack said from where his face was buried in his arms at the podium. He lifted his head, seeming to age another 10 years in the time it took for them to go through the thesaurus entry for ‘vintage.’ He sighed loudly. “All in favor of Gabriel updating the sign?” A few people raised their hands half heartedly. “All in favor of keeping it?” The rest of the room, a good twenty people, rose their hands. Jack rolled his eyes and banged the gavel. “Fine, motion failed, keep the damn sign,” Reyes grinned smugly and returned to his seat. Jack flipped to the next page in his agenda. “Alright, next topic. We have some complaints from a few tourists that passed through,” 

 

        The room groaned. Stars Hollow was a tourist town, but it seemed like every damn person who ran into the slightest problem ran to Jack.

 

        “First off, Zarya,” Zarya stood up straight. “A few visitors that took your crossfit class said you were a bit… intense,” Zarya rolled her eyes.

 

        “Did they die?” She asked. Jack shook his head.

 

        “Well, no, but-”

 

        “ _ Did they die? _ ” She asked again. Jack hesitated.

 

        “No, they did not,”   
  


        “Problem solved,” She shrugged. Jack shook his head.

 

        “Jamison, there have been more than a few complaints about loud noises and flashes coming from your house in the middle of the night,”

 

        Jamison leaned forward from where he was sitting with his arm around Satya. “Look here, mate. What I do on my property with completely legal pyrotechnics is my business, and everyone can stick their nose somewhere else,” He huffed and leaned back. Satya leaned over and whispered in his ear. He looked confused for a moment, before looking at Roadhog, who nodded once. He was ready to argue, but between his best friend and girlfriend, he didn’t stand a chance.. “ _ However _ , I will limit my hobbies to the hours of 7 pm and 9 pm on weekdays,” He leaned forward and pointed a finger at Jack, eyes angry “But know it wasn’t because of any bureaucratic  _ bullshit _ -”

 

        “Hey, language, I got a kid over here!” McCree said. Hana grabbed his arm.

 

        “Dad, am I going to hell now?” She asked in a mock panic. McCree wrapped an arm around her.

 

        “I don’t know darlin’. I just don’t know,” Jack banged his gavel once.

 

        “Thank you, McCree, that’s enough. Jamison, that sounds fair. Thank you Ms. Vashwani and Mr. Rutledge,” Mako and Satya shared a smug smile, and Jamison hunched down in his seat, grumbling to himself. Jack flipped to his notebook.

 

        “And, of course, Hanzo, we’ve got a few for you. All of which about your attitude,” Hanzo lolled his head and stood up..

 

        “It is not my job to be nice to my customers. I feed them good food for a fair price. I could poison them and smile, but I don’t. We don’t need to have this conversation every week!” McCree guessed town meetings were when Hanzo got out his anger, because he went from zero to seething in seconds.

 

        “Is it me, or are his eyebrows even angrier?” He whispered to Hana. She nodded.

 

        “Yeah, it’s like they're turning upward another degree every second,”

 

        “Hanzo, I get that,” Jack said, attempting to keep peace. “And I’m not telling you how to run your business. But all I’m saying is that you could stand to be more polite,”

 

        “I’m polite to everyone who enters my diner,” Hanze said defensively. Jack gave him a look.

 

        “Really, Hanzo?” 

 

        “Of course!” Hanzo said again. People shifted in their seats. 

 

        “Hanzo,” Jack started. “When I asked if I could host my grandmother’s birthday in the dinner, you told me only if it was her last one,”

 

        “He sprayed me down with the house outside when I tried to walk in after gardening in the mud,” Jamison admitted.

 

        “When I asked if there were any vegan options, he handed me a glass of water and a fork,” Mei said.

 

        “He pointed to me when a pregnant lady asked what would happen to her baby if she drank coffee,” Lena said from the back wall she was leaning on, avoiding her boss’s gaze.

 

        “He stole the family cow and traded it for magic beans instead of money!” McCree shouted. Hanzo gave him a death glare along with Jack.

 

        “Alright, McCree! If you’re only here to waste our time, then leave!” He shouted. McCree stood up and sighed, clamping down a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

 

        “Look folks. Sure, Hanzo is crabby and a dick-sorry Hana- and could probably stand to be nicer. But, who’s the guy who bakes free cakes on our birthdays? And who holds a pot luck on Thanksgiving for the town? Who fixed the hole at the Inn the moment I asked him too?”

 

        “There was a what at my Inn?” Reyes asked, standing up.

 

        “A hole,” McCree answered.

 

        “A hole?” Reyes asked again.

 

        “A hole,” The room answered in unision.

 

        “My point is, Hanzo does a lot for this town, so let’s cut him some slack, yeah?” There was a murmur of agreement, and Hanzo visibly relaxed. Jack nodded, giving up entirely.

 

        “Sure. There’s not much I could have done anyways. Well,” Jack checked his watch quickly. “Meeting adjourned,” He banged his gavel, and the room was a cacophony of chairs scraping and people leaving. Hana nudged McCree.

 

        “Nice speech! Gave me goosebumps,” She said. McCree shrugged.

 

        “Just call me R.L. Stine, kid,” 

 

        “That was so funny,” Hana’s voice implied that it was, in fact, not funny at all. “You know what, I’m going to go over and tell Lúcio that joke right now. I’ll see you at home,” Hana left, and McCree walked out of the warm studio and into the cold winter air.

 

        The stars were out, and shining bright. One of the perks of living half an hour away from a city with a population in the six digit range. He walked briskly through the square, racing home before his feet got numb.

 

        “McCree, wait,” Hanzo jogged up next to him, keeping pace. McCree smiled. Despite wearing less layers than McCree, Hanzo looked perfectly warm, albeit a bit nervous.

 

        “Hey there. What brings you my way?” He asked. Hanzo looked straight ahead.

 

        “I wanted to thank you, I supposed. For siding with me,” McCree waved him off.

 

        “Don’t bother,” They fell into a slower pace, McCree forgetting how much he hated the cold. “They were gangin’ up on ya for no good reason. You do a lot for this town, they should respect that,” 

 

        “As do you,” Hanzo replied. 

 

        “Ah, I owe a lot to this town. People are good, food’s great, people that make the food are outta this world,” McCree grinned, but noticed Hanzo’s lack of reaction. He expected at least a dirty look, but instead Hanzo just stared, blank. Like he was studying McCree. The former coughed, feeling a bit uncomfortable. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Hanzo glancing back at McCree every few seconds. For all the confidence McCree bleeds every second of his life, he’s at a loss for what to do with all this non-negative attention.

 

        They eventually walk up to McCree’s house. The Amaris’ were home, he guessed, by the car in the driveway. Hana had probably stopped by Reinhardt's and Lúcio’s for tea, and would probably be gone for a bit. He stopped at his front door, facing Hanzo, who has yet to say anything for a full ten minutes. That was, until McCree opened the opened door an inch, to where Hanzo reached out, closed his hand around McCree’s, and slammed it close again quickly. 

 

        “You don’t lock your door. You were gone all day, but you didn’t lock your door,” He commented, voice a little fast paced. McCree was a little startled by the sudden contact, but didn't pull away. He gaped for a second.

 

        “Uh, yeah, I can never find my damn house keys, so it’s usually unlocked. It’s not like anyone here would break in. Besides, Fareeha’s right next door, and she works for that big security company,” Hanzo had yet to remove his hand, which was still wrapped around McCree’s and the doorknob.

 

         “You trust people too much. You know everyone here, and you’re friends with everyone. There’s not a person in this town that you don’t tease, and not a person in this county you wouldn’t help if they need you. This town is lucky to have you,” He took a step forward, into McCree’s personal space, chests nearly touching. “  _ I’m _ lucky to have you,” His eyes traveled from his mouth to his eyes, and back and forth.

 

        “If only I could stand the weather,” Was the first thing that came to his mind, so of course it’s the first thing he said. He wanted to die, right then and there, but completely forgot what they were talking about as Hanzo trailed his arm from his hand, all the way to his neck, where he cradled McCree’s face in his palm. Their height difference was painfully apparent now, as he looked down at Hanzo.

 

        “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to stay warm, Jesse,” No, _this_ was the moment he thought he would die. No one ever called him by his first name, he wasn’t even sure most of the town knew he had one. Hanzo brushed his thumb back and forth over his cheek and lips. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

        “Are you gonna kiss me, or am I gonna have to lie to Hana later?” 

 

        Hanzo surged forward and met Jesse’s lips. They were soft, as he expected. His beard scratched his chin, but he expected his own was just as distracting. McCree wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s waist, pulling him closer, so their chests were touching. Hanzo brought his other hand to cup the back of Jesse’s neck, bringing him down further. Their lips slip against one another, but it was a fairly PG-13 kiss. McCree was positive Hanzo could hear his heart pounding in his chest, but couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Contrary to what most of the town believed, the pair had never been intimate in the past. Even he was surprised there had been no drunken and slightly depressing encounter in the past, in which kissing would be the only thing he could retell to his daughter. McCree hadn’t realized then, but he’s been waiting for this since the first time he walked into Hanzo’s Diner, thirteen years ago.

 

        When the finally parted, they were both out of breath. The loosened their grip on each other, but didn’t let go. They both stood there, looking down, catching their breath. McCree was racking his brain for something funny or witty to say, but was beat to it by Hanzo, who started laughing. Not a usual dry or subdued Hanzo laugh, but probably the closest thing the man could get to a giggle.

 

        “What?” Jesse asked. “That bad?” He asked. Hanzo shook his head quickly.

 

        “No, not at all. I just came to the realization, that, if we tell people about this,” One hand slid from Jesse’s cheek to his chest. “Jack is going to take credit,” Jesse scoffed.

 

        “Over my dead body. If he does, I’ll say it was because of Reyes, and the damn hole at the Inn,”

 

        “The hole?”

 

        “The hole,” Jesse confirmed. He chuckled, and brought Hanzo and ink forward, practically whispering, they were so close. “ Besides, there ain’t no ‘if’ about it. Angela saw the whole thing from her window, and is probably on the phone with Mei right now,” Hanzo gave the biggest grin Jesse had ever seen, and Jesse’s heart melted. “You’re right,”

 

        “About?” 

 

        “I’m feeling pretty damn warm right now,” Jesse said. “But what am I going to do when you leave?” He asked, with an exaggerated pout.

 

        “I’ve heard a poncho is very useful,” 

 

        Jesse kissed him again, if just to stop the teasing. Hanzo didn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been marathoning this show, and this happened. So my point is is that Domestic AU's are about taking intense, complex, and interesting characters and putting them in nonstressful, homey setting. And that's what GilmoreGirls is, and I have nothing else to do but obsess over video games and decade old tv. A loose list of the heroes job's and life corresponding to the show is:  
> McCree- Lorelai  
> D.Va-Rory  
> Hanzo-Luke  
> Genji-Jess  
> Lucio-Lane  
> Symmetra-Sookie  
> Torbjorn-Gypsy  
> Reinhardt- Mrs. Kim  
> Mei- Miss Patty  
> Soldier 76- Taylor Doose  
> Bastion- Dean  
> Zenyatta- Kirk  
> Tracer- Cesar  
> Widowmaker- Michel  
> Mercy- Babbette  
> Pharah- Morey  
> Winston- Book Store Owner  
> Junkrat- Jackson  
> Reaper, Roadhog, and Zarya didn't really fit anywhere, so their kinda just floatin'. Anyways, yeah.


End file.
